


How Deep is Your Love?

by littleroom



Category: Jack White - Fandom, The White Stripes
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, Light Angst, coffee and cigarettes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-17
Updated: 2015-12-17
Packaged: 2018-05-06 19:57:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,709
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5428763
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/littleroom/pseuds/littleroom
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A white stripes based fic partly on the coffee and cigarettes scene and partly of my own imagination and interpretation.</p><p>I wrote this fic while listening to Calvin Harris & Disciples - How Deep is You love (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qWWSM3wCiKY)<br/>AND<br/>Ms Mr - Hurricane (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jO-K1-yB8zA)</p><p>It is mainly based on the scene in the 2003 film, Coffee and Cigarettes (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sL9bq3YmHJo)</p>
            </blockquote>





	How Deep is Your Love?

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so i'm not entirely sure how to tag this fic but basically it is White Stripes based as the story is mainly based on the scene from Coffee and Cigarettes (2003) titled Jack Shows Meg his Tesla Coil. The fic is not a complete written version of the scene but partly of the scene and partly of my own imagination and interpretation. The fic includes Jack White as the main male character however, as the main female character is not named, it can be up to the reader whether you imagine it as Meg White, yourself or a completely original character which can be male, female, etc. As I was writing it, I imagined it as partly myself and partly Meg, however, as I said, it can be up to you.
> 
> I hope that makes sense. You can message me or comment with any questions too.

The tip of his finger danced along the tender skin of his lower lip. He blinked slowly as his eyes gazed lazily upon me. My voice seemed to be stuck in my throat. There were a million words that wanted to escape but...nothing. Complete silence between us. His face dropped in thought while his tongue grazed that lower lip of his. I turned away and tried to focus on anything but him. The room was big enough that I could concentrate my wondering eyes on the smallest detail and it was view through the window that caught my attention.

          A flick of a lighter. The sound cut through the stillness of the room.

The musty smell of the smoke reminded me of the almost burnt out cigarette between my own fingers. I lifted it idly to my lips and took a long drag. I could feel the fumes fill my throat almost painfully. I held it for only a moment before I had to breathe it out again. Jack was more used to smoking than I was but for some reason that I could not explain, I felt the need to continue smoking. I suppose for social reasons. Jack fidgeted in his chair and sniffed. I continued to look away and tired to re-focus on the room around me. I stared at the strange patterns that covered the cold tiled floor. The 80s decor of geometric shapes was something my eyes could haze over and allow my mind to drift.

          Jack's chair squeaked. The sound caused me to look up from my mesmerising shapes.

He shifted his position with an intake of breath and raised shoulders before releasing a sigh and settling back in his seat. I leaned my elbow on the table and finally looked over at him as he raised his eyebrows while releasing his sigh. He stretched out his arm towards a white mug of coffee on the small circular table between us and brought it up to his lips before taking a long sip. My head rested in my hand. I looked over towards my own mug and noticed a small pack of matches beside it. With my free hand, I picked up the pack and played with it between my fingers and against the table top. My mind elsewhere, thinking about everything and anything. He placed his mug back on the table and we both leaned back in our seats like synchronised clockwork. We looked at each other for just a moment in acknowledgement of one another's presence before shifting our gaze again. Jack rested his elbow on his arm outstretched across his waist and took another drag of his cigarette, then dropped his arm again towards the table and tapped his fingers on the edge. I uncomfortably leaned in towards the table and continued to play with the box of matches.

Like a curious child, I looked up at him while his attention was elsewhere and quickly took the moment to study him. His profile was very strong with his almost Roman-like masculine features looking in-between the transition of young to mature. His features had become more defined with the fading touch of rounded cheeks. The small dimples in those cheeks when he smiled will always add a resemblance of innocence in his face, even as he will age. His ears poked out from behind his dark, straight, angular cut bob. I always thought the chin-length suited him well. He constantly furrowed his thin brows as if he were always questioning the things he saw. The curiosity and growing wisdom gleamed in those deep brown eyes. A strong nose set distinguished on his face over continually pursed lips. The sharp features of his profile reflected the structure of his entire physique. His tall 6ft form was quite athletic in appearance with slightly muscular biceps and strong forearms that could only improve with time. His build and weight fit well with his height despite his diet of fast food and coffee and cigarettes. I was very attracted to his hands. There was something about his long artistic fingers and the thick veins that would appear after any form of manual labour. I suppose it reflected something very masculine and dominant within him which is why I found them quite appealing. There was a strong sense of leadership and authority that he held which almost scared me at times because he's so young yet he had this great amount of confidence and perception that made him seem older than he was. It felt at times as if had already lived twice as long as I had.

I tried to shake off the thoughts by taking in another painful drag of my dying cigarette. The smoke slithered from my lips and clutched onto any clean air that remained around me. I turned back towards the window and listened to the sound of Jack's spoon clink against the inside of his mug. All I had was the smell of smoke and non-existent passers-by to concentrate on as Jack's presence alone was too distracting for me. It felt as if I were a struggling alcoholic sitting beside a bottle of finest. The temptation to be closer to him was too great to handle, even more so that he didn't know; so, he hadn't had the decency to allow me to cope by leaving. I moved about in my seat, unsure of how to sit. Jack leaned back; legs crossed; left hand leaning on his knee. His cigarette balanced on the ashtray in the centre of the chess-board patterned table. With his thumb, he clicked his fingers while pressing his lips in a thin line. I studied his movements and took a sip of my still warm coffee. It was too bitter for my tongue but I swallowed it anyway. Jack picked the cigarette back up and tipped the end with his forefinger and leaned his hand back on his knee. With furrowed brows and a look of concentration, he picked up his mug and took a sip. There was something on his mind that seemed to occupy him greatly to the point of seemingly comfortable silence between us. He thoughts felt loud in the empty space but my own were screaming over them. I turned my head to the side and watched him sip his drink. Both mugs placed back on the table. Jack leaned forward in his seat and with his left hand; he held his chin to scratch an itch on his cheek before crossing his arms over his knee. He reached over and tapped his cigarette again over the ash tray then leaned back in his position. I reached my arm over the back of the chair and rested against the backrest in an awkward pose. I shifted slightly and took another sip of coffee.

The room felt a little darker which enhanced with the dark monotone colour scheme. There was a painting of a man on the wall behind us. It looked familiar but I couldn't place it. It was framed quite nicely for a small, quaint coffee shop in the middle of Detroit. We were the only two in the coffee shop and with only the faint music that seemed to come from nowhere, the atmosphere was slightly uncomfortable but we usually settle well in those types of situations. I smiled at the unexpected memories and inhaled more of my cigarette, forgetting that the taste did nothing for me. Jack leaned towards the table and put out the rest of his cigarette. He flicked his eyes towards me before hiding a smile and turning back to whatever had preoccupied him. He shook his head to rearrange his hair then pushed it back towards his ear the way that he usually does as if he's flattening it against his skin. A small crease formed in the middle of his eyebrows as he scrunched his nose in thought. It made his cheeks looked more rounded and child-like with deep laugh lines. He pressed his mouth together then picked up his mug at the sides and drunk what was left of the coffee. His lips pulled to the side as he swallowed before slightly parting as if he were about to speak. He leaned back and slouched in his chair almost defeated by an unspoken answer to an unasked question. I looked over waiting for a possible explanation but was left with nothing so leaned in and I put out my cigarette, finally uninterested with it. Jack licked his bottom lip while staring into the distance. He suddenly sat up and hunched a little, rubbed his hands against his knees then stood up, pulling at the material of his jeans.

"I've got to go", he quickly said as he stood. They were the first words uttered between us and they were to declare his departure.

"Alright", I responded quietly. I wasn't sure what to say so I just sat and watched him lean down and pick up his pack of Marlboro's. He placed a hand behind him to straighten himself up as he bent down. He stood straight, about to leave when he turned and asked me if I was going to go bowling the next day. The question felt so out of place in the situation but I answered him anyway. "Yeah, I'll be there". He raised his eyebrows in satisfaction.

"Well alright, I'll see you there", he responded before smiling then leaving the coffee shop. I sat there alone with only the remains of our cigarette ashes and empty mugs. I didn't realise the barely audible background music had stopped playing so I sat there in complete silence with only my incoherent thoughts to occupy me. I lit up again and looked around the room as I took a drag. I leaned my elbow on the table and rested my chin in my hand as I stared at the small table that we shared. There was a spoon balanced over packs of sugar which I picked up and twirled it in my fingers. The spoon tapped the side of the mug and an acoustical, high pitched, single tone resonated through the quiet of the room and left a long and slow decaying sound. 


End file.
